


Conversations in the Dark

by infinitewritings



Series: The Girl at the Desk [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Hurt Steve Rogers, Pain, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Soulmates, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Steve is lonely, Steve wants to be a normal boy, Strangers to Lovers, The VA Office, Yearning, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28820091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infinitewritings/pseuds/infinitewritings
Summary: "Feeling helpless I look for distraction, I go searching for you. Wandering through our city to find some solace at your door" - Warmth
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Girl at the Desk [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113065
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Conversations in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not, I've been working on this since September. Something about writing about Steve made everything a bit more stressful because I wanted to do him justice. And, this is it. I hope I did him justice. 
> 
> The title comes from John Legend's song on his Bigger Love album. 
> 
> Thank you, M, for believing me and checking up on me about this and also pushing me to write something happier. Not only are you an inspiration but also an incredible support.

_I have lived a life. My only regret is you didn’t get to live yours._

Steve was incandescently happy when he woke up from the ice. They had won the war. He had done it. He helped them win. Every sacrifice had been worth it. He was happy; he felt accomplished. His work was complete. Bucky’s work was worth it. His team had given life to a new brighter world and it was beautiful. He was proud. It was perfect. 

Steve was incredibly happy.

He just never realized the win was going to be so lonely. 

\---

Steve’s hand gripped his drink as the wind and snow blew around him. It was his first Christmas with the team but with the party buzzing inside he found himself outside. The snow settled around his drink and the ledge and clung onto him trying to send shivers down his spine. The sounds of the city refused to reach him, but he noticed the rush. Cars competed for the road and people were scattered on the sidewalks spilling from store or rushing into buildings. Steve noticed the sparkling lights lining the skyscrapers with parties in full rush. The party behind roared and he didn’t understand why he was there. Parties exhausted him.

He never found enough interest to keep him invested in the crowds. The drunks had found their corners. The fans littered around the floor and the business men wandered around him while government officials confronted him with questions. They asked about the Howling Commandos, the secrets of the war, and his New York.

Steve found his mind aching. He couldn’t hear his own thoughts. He couldn’t find a place to take a breath. The constant reminder of the war rang in his mind and the images had begun clouding his eyes. Suddenly, in the middle of the brightly lit Avengers Tower he saw Tony falling from the sky again. His best friend’s scream from the train echoed in his mind as Steve failed to hold him. The walls became the broken buildings mixed with the grey forests. Heavy boots filled the room and Steve could hear the voices of the Commandos. Conversation were replaced with screams from a corner of the room. His hand around his glass had become muddy and dirty. The walls had begun closing around him and the room kept getting darker.

Steve had squeezed towards the door, his hands aching for the handle. His breath stuck to his throat and the door popped open. The air had rushed around him and the cold had enveloped him, comforting him like an old friend. The smoke of guns and dirt wiped away and he reached for the corner of the balcony—the furthest from the party.

“Don’t you get cold, Cap?” Tony’s voice cut through the cold of the air.

“It’s not too bad.” Steve cleared his throat as more snowflakes landed around him.

Tony pulled his jacket tighter around him and pulled himself right next to Steve. “Have you gotten tired of us?”

“No, I was just watching the city. The party got too loud.” Steve’s eyes scanned the dark city. His eyes were still back to reality, but he kept seeing flashes of his comrades. He saw the fallen soldiers. Then, he saw the broken skyscrapers instead of the ones in front of him. His heart had finally rested back in place, but his lungs were still gasping for air. 

“They do tours, you know, for tourists. They take them around the city, showing the iconic streets and locations. I hear there’s a new Captain America inspired tour.” Tony was on his nth drink and he still didn’t have a slur in his words. 

“Hmm,” Steve gave him a smile, “I guess I should check to see if they have everything right.” 

“They did try to access SHIELD public files.” 

“How many times did you attend the tour, Tony?”

“I am a SHIELD consultant, remember?” Steve gave him a laugh and turned back to the city. 

“So, you’re saying you recommend it?” Steve continued.

“I do.” Tony faced Steve, “you should see it before you leave.” 

The wind froze around Steve. His back stiffened, and his hand tightened around the glass as he felt Tony’s stare peeking into his thoughts. The thoughts were spinning through his mind, sifting through different reactions. He wanted the team to know, he had been waiting for the right time. He wanted to ease the news to them because he wasn’t abandoning them—they are all he had in a big, confusing city. The team had become a welcome distraction for Steve. He buried his thoughts with meetings and their team training. Tony offered them space in his tower and Steve had gotten a chance to surround himself with others again.

But, the team was busy. They were busy with their lives—lives outside SHIELD. 

He was told to live his life but even with the team around him he didn’t know where to start. The move was strictly for him, to get him out of New York and its haunting streets. 

“I told you not to look into my file, Tony.” Steve managed to say.

“Why? Is there something I’m not supposed to know? Are you keeping secrets from the team?” Tony’s voice was quick and accusing. The tone where they both knew Tony already knew the answer.

“Cap?” Tony asked as Steve ran his fingers through his hair and cleared his throat. 

“Every day—” Steve sighed, “every day, I wake up and I think I might be home. Actually home, in the same room and in _my_ home, not the apartment, and recognize the streets outside. Instead, it's this city and I know nothing about it. Nothing feels familiar and my brain just won’t shut up. When I’m outside, I’m lost. When I hear the sounds, I’m back at war. I don’t know what I’m doing here, Tony.”

Steve faced Tony. “You’re constantly rushing towards something, you have a reason.” Steve pointed at Tony. “I was willing to die in that fight, Tony. I was back at war. It was the only thing that made sense at that point.”

Tony was silent, considering his next few words. The team had a hard time talking about the aftermath of the fight. They didn’t bring up the fact that they almost lost Tony. No one mentioned how they almost lost. Tony didn’t tell them about calling Pepper at the last second. They managed to shove it under the construction of the new building and focused on becoming friends. Steve didn’t tell Tony how his fall from the sky reminded him of Bucky and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. 

While the team had a hard time opening up to each other, Tony knew they heard even less from Steve. He would be there for team meetings and training, but he never shared anything. The team didn’t press him either. Steve wasn’t hiding anything from the team—he didn’t have much to share.

He shared his time between helping the city rebuild and reading files of his old friends; he enjoyed listening to the team’s stories and their updates. But, there was a creeping realization that rebuilding was going to continue only so much. Steve still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was doing other than overseeing the construction, training, and stalking the streets of New York. And, it was beginning to drive him restless.

“And Washington is supposed to be better? By yourself?” Tony’s voice was quiet, as if the others could hear him. No matter the animosity the two had initially shared, Tony enjoyed his time with Steve. He liked being on a team with him. He had gotten used to him and the idea of their captain leaving their home base didn’t settle with him. 

He worried for him. 

He knew what it meant to be alone. It drove him crazy. 

“I don’t know Washington, even from before. I have nothing to compare it to, so it’ll almost be like a fresh start. Maybe I’ll see less of my past.” Steve noticed Tony’s stiff shoulders, “I’m still a part of the team, just from somewhere else.”

“You can always join me on the west coast, in Malibu. We have great weather.”

“I still have a lot of catching up to do and Malibu seems like a whole different world.” Tony gave him a laugh. “But, thank you for the offer.” 

“You’re not wrong, Cap. It sounds like you’re having an existential crisis at 90.”

Steve nodded, with a smile. “That might be the best way to describe it. Maybe being somewhere unfamiliar might help. I think I’m ready to be buried in SHIELD work.” 

“You might be the only one. If you need extra work, I’ll send you my reports.” Steve rolled his eyes and they both turned towards the city. Christmas had lit up the city. The string lights were visible from the office windows. There was a mix of Sinatra and Bublé in the air. The echoes of the streets travelled to their balcony while the snow danced around them and chilled their drinks. Steve thought he could let himself get lost in the busyness of the city, he always enjoyed Christmas in the city, but it had him feeling much more isolated this time. The first Christmas out of the ice was the biggest shock as he looked for Bucky for their annual night to the music hall. He was hoping to wake up to the carollers preparing on the floor above him. This time he was with people and still felt alone.

“Well, the team doesn’t know yet,” Tony fished something out of his coat, “but, I thought I get a head start on the presents.” Tony handed him a small, thin notebook. Steve flipped through the nearly empty notebook with only one page filled with a list.

“I also added a few things to help you along.” Tony answered. 

“What—” there were a list of words. There were movie names, landmarks, history dates, and food suggestions.

“As you said, you need some catching up to do. Most of the information can be found on the internet but you’d have to figure out the internet first, hence the—”

“The internet being listed as the first thing, I see your point.” Steve interrupted and kept reading the list. Steve knew Tony wasn’t a person of sentiments, but the list made him smile. This might just be his best way of taking a little of control of the world around him—finally.

“Fill up the pages as you see more things. It may seem confusing and large right now, but you seem like a quick learner.”

Steve couldn’t stop smiling, “thanks, I know exactly what to add.” 

Tony gave him a quick nod, “also, I hear morning runs after a nightmare feel especially liberating. I wouldn’t know, running isn’t my thing, it’s a Rhodey thing, he said it really helped him, but you seem like a guy who can get behind it.” Steve’s eyes widened. He stammered for the next words when Tony continued. 

“I _did_ read your file.” Tony shrugged and after giving Steve a smile began his way back to inside. “Also, my Aunt Peggy—Margaret—is in Washington, she used to mention you a lot with my dad’s work. You could go see her.” 

Steve watched Tony walk away as more questions filled up his mind. He had been given the team’s files prior the attack on New York. He recognized the last name and the charm in the file photos. He had the same look on his face as Howard. The file never spoke much about Howard or Peggy in terms to Tony’s life. Steve had their own files with him to reminisce through. Peggy and Howard had continued work together. There were many references to arguments between the two, but they went through everything together, maybe apart but still in the same place. Somehow, Tony made a little bit more sense knowing Peggy had been a part of his life.

Steve wouldn’t want to admit it, but he had been comparing Tony to his father. They had too many similarities. They walked the same way and carried themselves in a swagger that Steve wanted. Tony mentioned the same bigger dreams that Howard shared. Tony wouldn’t say but he’s also working on that floating car his father tried to present at the Expo. But, Tony surprised him. Tony put himself on the line faster than Howard could. The image of Tony driving the nuke into the wormhole on his back has never disappeared. His father would have been proud of him—or at least the man Steve knew would have been proud. Peggy would have been proud. 

Filing the news on Peggy in the corner of his mind, Steve shuffled through the notebook again. It was small, just big enough to fit snuggly in his pocket.

\---

Steve jumped from his bed with his breath stuck in his throat and his hands shaking. An echo bounced off his walls and the frost began to disappear from his windows revealing the dark sky. The blanket felt stiff and cold and his bed was hard and unforgiving. His lungs refused to expand, and his gasps got louder and shallow. Shivers ran throughout his body as he sat hunched over with his hands in tight fists gripping the sheets. His shirt felt tighter, squeezing his arms and his chest. His eyes remained shut as he tried to coerce his heart back down in place. 

A wave of fresh air travelled through his open window, bringing him out of his dream. Finally, letting out a loud sigh his fingers uncurled, and his eyes blinked against the darkness. He was back in his room again and it wasn’t the freezing snowfall but his cold bedsheets. It wasn’t the creeks of the ice sheets but his clock. It wasn’t his shield but his blanket. His room wasn’t the ship. His bookcase was in the corner of the room instead of the control panel slowly losing life. His fingers weren’t going numb. He could still move his legs and blink his eyelashes. He was awake, instead of fighting to stay awake.

Steve was safe.

His mind relaxed and he ran a hand through his hair. The room was still settling around him and he was noticing the remnants of his last night. His book was still open with a pen stuck in the spine. His SHIELD folders were kept on the corner. The one file was still open, the pages now wrinkled by his fingers. Steve had convinced himself that burying himself in finding the remains of his best friend would help him. By turning through the pages of past SHIELD research and missions, Steve would find his past.

He was going to look for his friend. Even a piece of him would be enough. He had made notes last night that were still stuck to the file. He had found newspaper clipping about the post-war world. He had circled numbers and addresses. He had jotted down documentary names and museums tours. All the information had spun in his head as he had found himself sprawled in bed his head barely finding the pillows. With more visits to the museum and the SHIELD’s records, Steve busied himself in finding his friend. Yet, he found himself looking up at his walls, alone.

Steve couldn’t compare notes, he couldn’t share his restlessness. The more records he flipped through, the more he realized how his friends had slowly moved on. They had found their lives. They had found love and a future. Steve, on the other hand, was still battling the cold. He still saw the ship, he saw the icy and green waters, he saw his shivering breath. Now, mixed with his pictures of his war, he saw the images of the broken New York, the wormhole, a lifeless teammate, and scars. Nothing was willing to let him move on. 

Steve grabbed a notebook from his side table and flipped through the pages. Write about your dreams, Fury told him. And, while Steve felt there was never a point in writing them he still found himself shivering in bed and scribbled a short sentence.

He noted the date and jotted, “I miss you, mom.” 

Glancing at his window, Steve noticed the sun highlighting the sky and let out a sigh. 

\---

“Took you long enough,” Sam said as Steve approached him, slowing his run. 

“What are you doing here?” Steve smiled at him. The sunrise had begun to colour the sky, illuminating the Lincoln Memorial. “This is way too early for you."

Sam shrugged, “I figured I try to follow your routine once and see what actually makes you fast." Steve let out a laugh. 

“And?”

“I still don’t feel like Captain America.”

“Then, you’re going to keep up today?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“How about you just do your thing, running or sprinting, whatever you call it. And, I’ll do my own at my pace. At least we’d start together. I think that’s what friends do nowadays.” 

“I thought friends ran together, side by side.” Sam started at Steve, who kept smiling.

“I knew I should have slept in.” Sam rolled his eyes and Steve noticed him fixing his sleeves and collars uncomfortably. 

“Soft mattress?” 

Sam nodded with a tight mouth. “You too?”

“And a little too cold this time.” Steve responded. 

Soft mattresses. Nightmares. 

First, he couldn’t sleep. So, he tried to cross off items from his list. He read books. He flipped through old files of his friends. He watched more movies. He read more newspaper articles. He tried to keep himself away from the bed. 

When he did find himself sprawled on the bed, the nightmares came. His hair would be stuck to his face. His breath rushing for air. Either he stood in the middle of the New York like an imposter, he watched his friend fall from his fingertips, or he sat in a cold ship clutching his knees thinking he could hear his mother’s voice. It was flashes of the decaying ship and the icicles in his lungs and choked breaths. His waking nightmares were incapacitating but he’d rather have the noise to pull him back. 

Recovery is an ongoing process, Sam had told him, it happens in different stages. SHIELD could run as many tests as they wanted, and he could complete as many missions as they want him to, but his mattress would still be too stiff. He’d still be losing his mind while sinking in his own room. His blankets would engulf him. He’d wake up gasping for air and he would still be standing in New York. They had cleared him for perfect health, but his mind was still a rollercoaster. Something Steve still didn’t completely understand. But, running made it harder for his thoughts to torture him.

It was the one-time Steve felt that his thoughts had calmed down and weren’t trying to sink him. 

\---

_You, always, have our support._

Her phone dinged again for the nth time. It was the same thing since she woke up. The messages have been the same every year and her phone’s reminder, something she had programmed in and was too afraid to remove, kept popping up. Every time the messages sprang on her screen, she clenched her jaw and stiffened her back. Her hands curled into a tight fist as she tried to let herself take in a long, deep breath. Her personal emails always filled up too. Her relatives were up like clockwork with their same consolations. There were pictures. There were encouragements. Sometimes there were flowers—even physical flowers. 

It was suffocating.

So, she buried it. The phone was stuffed with her planner and the stack of files scattered around her desk. The sound had been turned off; instead, the buzzes sprinkled through the papers and she could see the ripples in her water. Her table vibrated with every pulse and her surroundings slowly started to become the vibrations. 

Letting out a long sigh, she turned on the news and focused entirely on the hosts and the flashing headlines across the screen. 

It wasn’t even the first hour of work and she already wanted to climb back into bed. 

A part of her knew she was being a coward. Enough grief meetings have told her how important it is to come to terms to the actions and the realities of her world around her. She’s even shared it in the coping meetings she led. Granted, she did acknowledge that it is easier said than done but always felt bad preaching—especially today.

Covering a yawn, she opened the most difficult file on her desk and re-evaluated the same ambiguous information. If she was about to block the date and the entire day from her mind, she was willing to being buried in unsolvable files. 

She was ready to solve the parallel dimensions theory if that’s what it took to not notice her phone. 

“I come bearing gifts!” Sam’s voice rang through the silence of the office. He placed a cup of coffee on her desk, followed with her favourite muffin. 

“I think this should be an everyday thing.” She smiled.

“Then, it wouldn’t be special.” 

“It doesn’t need to be.” She whispered.

“You always make my day special for me.” Riley’s anniversary was coming up soon. They had started this tradition a long time ago before she had to go through it herself. Every year, she had managed to take Sam out for lunch, get him his extra special coffee, or take him out for a long drive. When it came her turn, Sam never held back.

Clearing her throat, “did you beat your friend in your race today?”

“Mia, I’m not a lunatic. I run for fun.” She blinked at him.

“Right, of course, you just like to run even before the sun decides come out.”

“That’s the race I never lose,” Sam winked at her. “Also, we’re going for drinks, you should come.”

“I’ll have to check my schedule.” She waved her planner at him and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Make room in your schedule because you’re coming.”

“Sam—”

“You’ll like him.” 

\---

Steve took a deep breath as he stood in front of the Veterans Affairs Office. The sun had begun to settle behind him and he checked his watch again. He glanced at his phone just to make sure there wasn’t some last-minute mission that could take him away. _Let yourself enjoy a little. Make friends._ Natasha had told him.

The desk at the front was empty with a message “in session, please join” placed squarely in the centre. Steve paced the halls in the office, following the pictures that were scattered around the walls. Each picture was labelled with names and years served. Steve’s eyes travelled from each picture, noticing each special event and the uniforms. There were tears and friendship throughout each frame. 

Pictures of World War 2 heroes were scattered. They were receiving awards and medals to their uniforms. Other pictures had friends who served in the same regiments frozen in middle of a funny story. Some were from parades. Some walked with canes or with their hand gripping their family member. Their eyes were in awe of the world around them, celebrating the world around them. Those veterans didn’t look out of place.

Steve did a double take on a picture. A veteran was walking in the parade was his cane in one day and paper in the other. It was a newspaper clipping. There was a blurry, dark picture but Steve could make out the words, “Rogers Disappears”. His breath was knocked out of his chest as he tried to pull himself away from the picture. He found his fingers reaching out to the picture when a voice interrupted him.

“It’s really hard to pry yourself from those pictures.” The voice broke through the sounds of his loud, beating heart. She flashed him a small smile. Her brown eyes shone under the bright lights of the hallway and her hair rested in soft curls around her shoulders. She was about to continue speaking when a woman approached her. Steve looked away, calming his breath and forcing his heart to jump down from his throat. The other woman walked away with quiet sniffles and the former woman turned back to him. 

“Is she going to be alright?” Steve tried to fill the silence. 

“Yeah, she’s a strong one. It gets hard when the personal stories come out but that’s always a good thing.” She smiled at him again and he felt his mind brightened slightly. She turned her gaze at the photos. 

“You’re a veteran yourself?” Steve wanted her to keep talking.

“No, no, not myself. But, I come from a family of veterans. This session was for loved ones, family members, friends, or anyone closely related to people who are serving. Apparently, I’m good enough to lead that.” 

“How are they? Your family in the military?”

She let out a light chuckle. “You’re just full of questions for someone whose name I don’t even know.” Steve stared at her. She gave him a side glance, expecting an answer. Her words echoed in his mind. She had said it so quickly that he almost didn’t catch it. Steve wasn’t actively trying to hide his identity—usually there’s no point as someone always saw through it. Natasha had convinced him that he had a familiar face. His mind stammered.

Words had formed in his mouth and without really second guessing, said, “Barnes. Steven Barnes.” 

_What._ Steve thought. 

“Alright, Mr. Barnes. Nice to meet you. Are you here for the next meeting? It’s going to begin in a little bit.”

Nothing, no reaction. She went along with it. Steve’s hands felt sweaty as he waited for the moment she’d catch his lie. It was a bad lie. It was obvious. He always got too nervous. The words ate at him. But, she continued. She didn’t question it. 

“Uh—no, I was hoping to find Sam, Sam Wilson?”

She gasped. His heart stopped. She knows. She has to know. He told her. 

“You’re his running friend! The guy who always beats him in time _and_ in distance! You two do that running before sunrise thing."

Steve paused. He already had prepared an apology and his breath was still stuck in his throat and he had a hard time looking into her eyes. He’s been good at expecting responses, but his mind kept spinning around her.

“Yeah…” the anticipation kept making him nervous, “that sounds like us, at least it's just drinking now.” 

“I suppose.” She gasped, “unless he’s trying to steal your speed. Do you think that’s why he’s taking you drinking?” Their eyes were locked with each other, away from the rest of the world. 

“You think so? Did he say something?” 

She shrugged, "I do hear that stealing speeds is quite difficult, so you should be okay.” They shared a small chuckle and Steve found himself smiling more around her to match her bright smile. They stood so close they were practically whispering.

“Perfect, you found Amelia. Let’s go for drinks,” Sam announced and pushed them towards the front desk. 

There was a rush filling the streets as the streetlights illuminated the sidewalk. Some people rushed past them in business suits with their phones attached to their ears while others lingered through the stores. Steve kept his hands buried in his pockets and his eyes ahead of him. He’s noticed himself wandering to look at Amelia time to time trying listen and watch her as she spoke. She spoke with her hands, gesturing and painting the stories with her hands. Her eyes bounced between Sam and the street. Amelia curled a strand of hair behind her ear and Steve felt the air rush out of his lungs.

He still couldn’t understand what happening to him.

The name Steven Barnes rolled around his mind during the walk. He had always joked with Bucky that he wished he could be more like him—maybe that meant stealing his name. In hindsight, the name didn’t make sense. He wasn’t trying to hide. His identity and Captain America’s identity was never a secret. There is a section in the museum dedicated to him. His records are public. Natasha had told him about the big banners about Captain America scattered throughout Washington. His personal items have been on loan to different museums and his story has been written and rewritten countless times. Newspapers covered his name and identity; his mask didn’t cover anything. The documentary movies had begun reselling again and his name was mentioned during debates on the news. People knew more about him before they met him. 

There was no point in lying. He hadn’t been the most undercover secret. But, she gave him an opportunity and somewhere in the back of his mind it made sense.

She may never see him in his full gear. 

There may not be an Avengers fight again.

She may never see him in general.

He’s been so desperate for a life, a different life, maybe this could be his chance. If just for one night he could be someone else, Steve was willing to try it out. 

“Oh shit,” Sam stared at his phone, frozen in step.

“What’s wrong?” Amelia looked at his phone and back at him. Sam frowned as he scrambled to type.

“That guy,” Sam spoke in between his texts, “I was looking for him.” Sam sent the text and turned to her, “the veteran I met during my discharge, I think I finally found him.” He checked his phone. “I’m going to have to postpone drinks, guys.” 

“That’s fine, we can always reschedule.” Steve felt himself feel bittersweet.

“No, don’t do that on my account. You two grab dinner or something and we’ll do it later,” Sam tapped both of them on their shoulders and gave Amelia an apologetic smile and ran back the opposite direction. 

Steve and Amelia glanced at each other and danced their eyes around. Steve wanted to continue being Steven Barnes just a little bit longer. He wanted to take off the baggage of being an avenger off his shoulders for one night and concentrate on her. He didn’t want to sit in his apartment under a bleak light looking for hope for a friend. He didn’t want to flip through thick SHIELD files and have his night consumed with the thoughts of his life. There was a movie and a history book waiting for him back in his apartment too and he was already exhausted with it.

He wanted to learn about the woman in front of him. He wanted to tell his story to her personally. He wanted a different night.

Steve sighed, “we could always—”

“Do you like Thai, Mr. Barnes?” 

“I’m sorry?” The name echoed in his ears. 

“There’s an amazing Thai place close by and I was really hoping to convince Sam for dinner instead of drinks. I’m starving.” 

“I—um—yeah, sure, of course.” She beamed at him and led the way to the restaurant. The words Thai Food weighed heavily on his small notebook in his pocket.

\---

Steve stared at his menu. 

He read the descriptions under each food item and he still couldn’t decide what would be the safest thing to try. As they had walked closer to the restaurant, Steve wrestled with telling her the truth about never trying Thai food. It’s been on his list for a long time. Tony had recommended all kinds of foods the last time they had spoken. Steve just never had the confidence to actually order it and try. He also didn’t want to do it alone. 

Steve watched her from the back of the menu to notice her eyes. They were jumping from different items, eagerly looking for something in particular and Steve hoped he could guess where her decision was landing. 

They had injected the blue serum to make him stronger why couldn’t they have given him more powers!

She noticed Steve staring at her and flashed him a smile. Clearing his throat, Steve went back to the menu, trying to understand where his taste palette landed. Even when they had less choices, Bucky had to push him to try something new and Bucky decided for him—a decision Steve always regretted. Amelia bit her lip when she was deciding, Steve noticed. 

And, then her menu was closed. 

“Have you made up your mind?” She asked. 

Steve sighed and closed his menu, “I have to come clean, I’ve never had Thai before.” She gasped as her eyes widened and he scratched the back of his head.

“You should have said something! We could have picked something else!” 

“No, no I don’t mind. It gives me a chance to try something off my list.” 

“Your list?” 

Steve pulled out his notebook and waved it in front of her. 

“I have a list of things I need to catch up on, try, and experience. Thai food happens to be one of them.” He noticed her confused eyes and his mind tried to come up with a proper story. “Ever since I was—” _found, discovered buried deep in ice near Greenland with my shield because I’m actually Captain America,_ “I was sent back from my deployment I began to realize I don’t really know much about anything. So, when I moved from military to SHIELD I thought it would be a good time to catch up.” 

“SHIELD?” Amelia’s eyes widened. _Shit_ , Steve told himself. “You work in that big, old, ugly building in down—” she noticed Steve staring at her and she cleared her throat. “I mean, what else is on your list?”

Steve considered his list for a minute. There were historical events that he had come to learn are included in history lessons in school. He should already know about the Berlin War. The moon landing was very common information. Most movies were part of everyday knowledge.

“Things like…” he cleared his throat, “something called Kindles or E-Readers, and Tinsel. No, wait, Tinder, and—” 

“Well, Mr. Barnes, I think it would safe for you to assume that the people using Tinder also don’t get it. So, you’re good there.” A laugh travelled through their table as Steve continued to flip the pages.

“And, I’ve got things like Star Trek, the keto diet—” 

“Wait, Star Trek? The massive show and movie cinematic world? Even my mom knows the references! Did you just wake up one day at a base and that was day one for you?"

“Well—” Steve let out a small laugh and tried to come up with a reasonable enough excuse when the waitress came up to them. The waitress offered both of them small smiles and glanced at Steve. Her eyes paused during her greeting and narrowed on him, forgetting about Amelia, as she tried to notice more details around his face. Steve gave her a small and quick smile and shoved the menu in front of his face and kept his head low. He narrowed his shoulders and tried to make himself smaller and her eyes continued to burn into him. Amelia’s eyes danced between them.

Steve levelled his breath when the waitress opened her mouth.

“We’re ready to order,” Amelia interrupted the waitress. Her smile was tight-lipped and firm. The waitress ripped her attention from Steve and she stuffed her question back down. Amelia ordered for both of them and watched the waitress do a double take when she walked away. 

“Did you know each other?” A playful smile played on Amelia’s lips as she watched Steve squirm in his seat. The air had just returned to his lungs and his feet had found the floor again. He hadn’t felt so anxious facing off the chitaru and this moment had him break into sweats. 

“No, no, memorable face, maybe.”

“Oh, right, of course. That’s definitely it.” Amelia raised her eyebrow with a smirk playing on her lips and Steve continued to shake his head while trying to sink into his chair. 

“It’s true, I don’t know her!”

“Sure, sure, you don’t have to tell me. Although, you not telling me is also very telling.” 

“Anyway,” Steve watched her as her attention snapped to her phone, "how do you know Sam?”

Her phone had buzzed a number of times on the table already. Steve’s eyes had glanced at the light on her phone and he had to peel himself away before he could catch a word in the message. Her eyes peeked at her phone each time and each time her breath would hitch to her throat and a second later be released in a long sigh. 

“I met him in rehab.” Steve’s face straightened as his eyes widened. Steve and Sam had shared numerous conversations after their runs. Sam had asked him for details and Steve had always asked about his time in the army. They found themselves sharing more stories about their time during combat. Steve told him about the nights he went out for drinks with the Howling Commandos. It was always a run-down bar, they brought their own drinks and their war horrors, but they celebrated each other’s company. None of them lost their spark. 

Sam told him about the long nights he and the boys spent in their bunkers. They would always exchange stories about their children or their childhoods. The pictures would get passed around her and they would come up with little stories about what their families could be doing. They helped each other write letters to their significant others and encouraged them to reach out to old friends. It was a family, Sam had told him. Riley was family, Sam had said. Steve never pushed him for more details. 

“Sam worsened his injuries when he dove after Riley. He was sent straight for rehabilitation after the operation and he did not want to be there at all. He wasn’t part of my rotation, but I heard from the other residents about an angry, young man who is furious with the world.”

“That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“Not anymore. He went through such a big change with his rehabilitation, but it took a long time and a lot of conversations. His trainer had switched positions and some of the patients were moved to me. Sam was one of them.”

Sam wasn’t prepared that day. He wasn’t informed his trainer was changing and that only made him even more annoyed. But, Amelia waltzed in that day with bright smile and an extra cup of coffee in her system. She had researched his profile to prepare questions and conversation starters.

“I talked so much around him.” She took him around the facility and talked to herself—letting Sam hear her voice. “I talked about the other patients, the stories they talked about, the weather, and snuck in some staff gossip. I wanted him to say something, but I filled the silence for us. One day, my had kept buzzing because of a boy,” Amelia rolled her eyes, “but, he finally offered his own details.” Amelia was telling him the boy trouble. Sam gave her a recommendation. He told her about the time Riley needed help writing to his girlfriend. The conversation then led to a story about a prank he and the others played on Riley. The story stopped just as abruptly it had begun, but they had started. 

“He told me about his parents, about his deployment, and his childhood. Finally, he told him how much he wished it was him instead of Riley. I remember we both sat in silence. It would have been Riley’s birthday that day.” 

“He still has the nightmares,” Steve whispered. Steve remembered the conversations they’ve had after their runs. Sam still sees his nightmares as vividly as Steve does. The feelings of helplessness and vulnerability never disappeared as Sam still sees Riley and even after he tries a different route or decision, it always led to the same thing. Steve still sees himself driving the ship, never making it to the ice and crashing elsewhere. He sees himself standing in the middle of the chitaru fight while his team is beaten, and he looks like a fraud. If it’s not the one thing, it’s the other.

“Yeah, he’s become a bit more comfortable sharing them but no matter how much he works on his recovery, those keep coming back.” Amelia gave him a small, sad smile. “It’s ironic, we’re trying to help others while we haven’t completely recovered ourselves.”

_We_ echoed in Steve’s ears. He’s been on his own for a long time. Even with Bucky, he was still by himself and tried to enjoy his own company. It was better that way rather have to lose someone. But, the more nights he spent in the boxing room, in his dark apartment, he craved someone—someone to understand his experience or someone to recover with.

“At least he’s got you,” Steve offered, and Amelia felt herself smile more. 

The food had begun to arrive, and the waitress still kept her eye on Steve as she covered the food with all of Amelia’s items. Her gaze had begun to burn through his lie and Steve wondered how much longer the lie could survive. The longer he sat with Amelia the more the lie pressed against his heart.

It was wrong, but the night had begun to feel really right. 

“Wait!” Amelia gasped as Steve reached for a dish. “I need to ask you something and you have to be completely honest.” Steve raised his eyebrows as he watched her.

“Is something wrong?”

“Promise me you’ll be honest. I only want the truth, no lies.” Steve’s heart rate sped up and his mind spun out ideas. He must have slipped up. The conversation echoed in his mind and he tried to find the right words to offer as an apology. He had put the waitress confrontation to rest. He didn’t say anything about the war. There was nothing about the ice.

“What’s going on?” Steve choked. 

“Promise, first.”

Steve tried to clear his throat, “yes, alright.”

“Do you have ‘eat with chopsticks’ on your list?”

A rush of breath left Steve’s mouth as he relaxed.

Amelia had ordered at least 2 different kinds of noodle dishes and the waitress had placed chopsticks by their plates along with the other cutlery.

“No, I promise, I do not have that on my list.” Steve’s grip on the table loosened and he could feel his fingers again. 

“Okay, good,” Amelia let out a breath, “even I don’t know how to.” 

Amelia watched Steve as he took his first bite. As the flavours mixed in his mouth, the spice got stronger. Letting out a few breaths, Steve continued with another bite of the noodles. His eyes kept blinking and his throat tried to clear back the sting. As his eyes wondered around the room, he noticed her eyes trained on him. From the few bites she had already taken, she wasn’t even reacting. Her eyes were eager, and Steve was afraid to open his mouth. His lips had begun to tingle, and he was convinced that if he focused on anything else he wouldn’t be able to take another bite. 

“It’s,” Steve cleared his throat, “it’s definitely something.”

“Is it too spicy?”

“It won’t stop!” Amelia broke into a loud laugh, filling the entire room. She hunched over and covered her face to stifle her laughs.

“I’m dying here, and I’ve been to war!”

“Sorry!” Amelia gasped, “do you need my water?”

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not,” Her laugh had been reduced to smaller snickering. 

“I’m completely fine,” Steve mentioned, and he took another bite—much smaller this time. 

“Of course, definitely, I completely believe you.”

To keep his mind off the food and his increasingly burning mouth, Amelia offered to explain the food to him. She had been learning specific details about the foods through her very serious cookbook research she gave herself. Her growing library of cookbooks explained more than just the recipe but taught the background behind the dishes. Sharing it with Sam had been difficult. He’d rather have the physical food rather than the lecture, but Steve listened. He listened when she listed the recipes she’s created and ruined. She did little experiments with different dishes and in between his teary eyes, he listened.

He watched her hands and her details replace the stresses that had overtaken his mind. He wanted to know more about her—her favourite colour, her favourite dish, or even her favourite season. Steve also wanted to know why her phone kept ringing and she was unwilling to pick it up. Steve noticed her shoulders stiffen with each new ring. She would stop mid-sentence, glance at her phone, and clear her throat to bring her back to the restaurant.

“You should get that, someone is trying to get your attention,” Steve nodded at her phone. Amelia turned her phone over.

“I—” Amelia’s fingers tapped on the back of her phone. “I rather not.” Steve raised his eyebrow. 

“Is everything okay?” Steve’s voice had gotten soft.

“Well…” she shifted in her seat trying to search for the right words. “I just try not to look at it today.” Steve continued to watch her as she hunched lower in her spot.

She played with her fingers and watched her phone. She’s never been a person to share personal details but, her body felt stiff. She felt like she could explode if she kept another thought inside. Amelia could taste the night three years ago. The voicemails whispered in her mind. The voices echoed in her ears. Her eyes threatened to well up. 

Amelia cleared her throat and tried to sit up straight. 

“You don’t—"

“Today—it’s my—” Amelia cleared her throat, “my brother died three years today.” 

Steve froze in his spot, staring at her. She was watching her phone again as her lower lip trembled and her fingers around her fork tightened.

The lights around them became too bright. The sounds got too loud. The temperature in the restaurant dropped and her shoulders shivered. Her clothes begun to feel too tight and her breath was lost. It felt weird to say it out loud to a different person—a person with no knowledge of her past. She’s never said the words since the actual day and the world felt like it was spinning around her. The voicemails were back in her head and she could see herself stumbling in her home, squinting at her screen, and sighing at the responsibility before she could understand what she read.

The voicemail was still there. She remembered to delete everything else just so that final voicemail would stay in her phone. It was her mother’s shaky voice. She had recorded too many of the messages already and it was barely her gasps. Amelia heard her mother form the words and her knees gave away first. They still do when she accidently hears the message again. Her limbs had refused to work that day and she felt herself stiff every day since then.

“I’m—” Steve cleared his throat. Amelia was silent. Her eyes had glazed over. Her food was forgotten, and Steve recognized the signs.

“No, no,” Amelia blinked back to him, “it’s—” Amelia reconsidered. It’s not okay. She’s not okay. She hadn’t been okay on this day for a while.

"I try not to focus on it today, anyways. I have the habit of booking my schedule so full that I actually don’t have time to think. But, everyone else has to keep reminding me and its always the same. The same wishes and trying to understand the pain. Then, there are emails from his squad and the veteran’s affairs. I’ve sent so many emails like that myself. It’s just—unnecessary. The only call I really care about it the one I’m going to have tomorrow with my parents.” She sighed and busied herself with stuffing her phone in her purse. Steve watched her feel the phone in her purse before forcing her hand back out. Her breaths were long and laboured with her blinking rapid. Steve couldn’t offer any words of wisdom. He was learning how to deal with his own guilt. But, he wanted to reach out and wrap an arm around her as she sniffed back the building tears.

“Let’s go.” Steve motioned for the bill and she stared at him. “Let’s get out of here.”

“And go where?”

"I know a place.”

“Mr. Barnes, I barely know you.” Her brows were raised. 

“You can trust me, ma’am.” 

She paused to think. “Okay, I’m doing this because you know Sam.”

“I’ll take it.” 

Her mind was still buzzing with what she had just said. It was one thing feeling broken today and losing herself her work while trying to numb her feelings. It was another thing sharing her feelings with someone else. This memory, this day, and this feeling was personally hers. It was her trauma, her baggage, and the world didn’t need it. She didn’t want to share it with anyone more. 

Yet, she looked into Steve’s eyes and the restaurant around him disappeared and she found herself lost in his eyes. His eyes were soft, and they watched the way she spoke with her hands. He didn’t offer solutions. He listened, and he nodded with her pain. There was a glimmer in his eyes that made her feel like the most important person in his life.

Steve overtook the situation really quickly. He didn’t let her even consider paying the bill. He had his hands around her coat before she got up and with a soft touch to her elbow, he led the way to the door and her walk through the door before him.

They passed by lit up restaurants and bars. Larger crowds were scattered through the windows and the loud sounds barely escaped to interrupt their silence. The distance between them had gotten smaller with their arms barely brushing against each other. Amelia battled with the words forming in her head. They had passed the niceties the moment she threw her bomb on their table.

“Can I ask a personal question?” Steve breathed as her voice filled their silence. 

“Of course.”

Amelia considered her words again. “Why did you join the army?”

Steve let out a small gasp. The question turned in his head. Doctor Erskine had asked him a similar question before. Steve didn’t want to join the army, he wanted to fight bullies. He didn’t want to continue fighting in the army. His bully was gone; he had taken care of him. There was no reason answer to why he worked so hard to join the fight. Maybe he wanted to help and do the right thing. He also wanted to be like the other guys. At the same time, he wanted to be more like his friend. He also wanted to prove to himself that he could do something more, something more meaningful.

He couldn’t tell her that. 

Amelia noticed him battling the question in his mind. 

“You don’t have to answer that. It’s always—” 

“No—” Steve took a breath, “I’m just finding the right words.” Amelia nodded. 

“Because of my father.” Steve’s voice had gotten quieter. He had always heard stories from his mother about his father. He fought in the Great War. His uniform had still hung in the closet. Steve found himself wearing his coat when he was younger. The medals would always bounce against each other and he would look at himself in the mirror hoping to fill the coat in the right places. There were pictures around the house too. The wedding picture of his mother in her gown and his father in his uniform. It was a hurried wedding, his mother told him. It had to happen right before he was shipped off to the War. His mother was proud of her husband. His beard would always tickle him—if Steve tried to remember hard enough. He may have created that memory. 

He was sure there was a time when he sat on his father’s lap as he read the newspaper. His mother had corroborated that story. He had heard stolen conversations between his mother and their neighbours. She talked about his letters to others. She talked about how she was happy he made the right decision. His mother said she saw her husband in her son. 

“He was in the army. My mother,” Steve smiled to himself as he remembered her wearing a poppy as she showed it off to a picture of his father, “my mother was very proud of him and she never doubted his decisions. She was happy he decided to serve. It only made sense that I would do the same thing. She always talked about it. And, I’ve always wanted to do something good. I wanted to help us. It seemed like the best way.”

Amelia had a smile playing on her mouth as she watched him. 

“You father must be proud of you to follow his steps.”

“I actually never met my father.”

Amelia gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh my god.” Her mind raced, and her steps stopped. Steve was already shaking his head trying to assure her it’s okay. “I clearly don’t think before I speak! I believe I just did that! That was horrible of me, I’m so sorry!”

“No—”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Barnes!” Steve let out a laugh. He’s never thought of his father too much to ever consider being offended. The stories in the museum of his father always amazed him. He learned small stories himself—things even his mother didn’t tell him. 

“No, please, it’s okay.” Amelia stared at him with furrowed eyebrows and worried eyes. 

“I promise, it’s alright. My mother told me lots of stories about him and I read a lot of his letters too. I met him, I was just too young to really remember him. So, I feel like I know a part of him, at least, and it would be safe to say that he would be proud.” Amelia nodded.

“I’m sure he would be proud. It’s never an easy thing to make that decision, doesn’t matter if another family member was a part of it.”

“Yeah, sometimes you do doubt yourself.” Steve nodded. He had sat in the examination room five times. Each time he had lied his way through. Each time he sat clutching his jacket, slightly shivering against the breeze in the room convincing himself he made the right decision. He carried his parents’ picture in his wallet during that time—after his mother died too. He had their smiling faces and his father’s uniform to convince himself.

“Is it worth it?” Amelia’s voice was doubtful. A part of her didn’t want him to hear it. She wanted to ask that question to her brother. 

Steve’s jaw clenched. She didn’t need a patriotic answer. He had a chance to be honest. He never had a chance to be asked that question. Every inch of his being knew the exact answer. Everyone assumed that Captain America was happy with his situation. They assumed he was happy performing on the stage. They thought he was happy killing the bad guys. They decided he was happy to be woken up. He wanted to tell them then when they filled his schedule with performances. He wanted to tell them then when SHIELD asked his permission about the museum exhibition.

He wanted to tell Bucky they should exile themselves. They both had seen enough death. 

Steve didn’t want to be woken up. 

He wasn’t happy. 

Steve was lonely.

Steve was out of time. 

“No.” Steve’s answer echoed around them and around the city. He let out a shaky breath. “Not always.” 

They carried in silence. They hunched together again, sharing each other’s warmth. The cold was sending more shivers down his spine tonight. They were both tired. They were tired carrying different responsibilities on their shoulders and different pains. Amelia and Steve’s steps matched as the chill surrounded them. Warmth had radiated from her when they walked, and he found himself inching closer. The city didn’t matter to them. The sounds didn’t echo in their minds. The crowds didn’t exist around them. For that moment, it was just the two of them. 

Steve hadn’t let himself wander since he moved. He found specific spots—recommended spots. He knew if he wandered the city at night with his thoughts, he’d fall back into the self-loathing he was feeling in New York. He would hear the same roars and his hands would get sweaty and he would run out of breath. The only time he would find himself outside is if he had a destination in mind. He didn’t want the streets of Washington to get mixed with the bare forests. Watching others around him overwhelmed him. He couldn’t understand the rush, the conversations, the mannerisms, and the rules. The music sounded different and the clothing didn’t make sense. He’d had found comfort in quiet boxing rooms or early runs.

And, yet, in the quiet and slow walk with Amelia he was actually enjoying the city. 

Taking in a deep breath as their walk continued, Steve gathered his confidence. 

“Can I ask you?”

“Please do,” Amelia said. 

“Why the VA Office?” 

“Believe it or not, that wasn’t a part of my plan. I was a political science major in school. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had this idea that I could change the world. I’d learn the background of politics and the economy and I could help write something, pass something that could help make the world a better place.” Amelia laughed at herself, “I wanted to be a part of a better future.” Steve’s eyes were trained on her as she smoothed her hair down. A nervous tick, Steve noticed. 

“And it was around that time my brother decided to join the army. He’s always wanted to join but managed to find something else. He got serious this time. He wrote us letters from the academy and he was full of so many stories. He wrote about the friends he made. They were from all walks of life with different stories.”

Amelia paused. This was already too much information, but she couldn’t find herself to stop. 

“They were ready to fight for anything. But, they had a fear. There was the dread of what would happen after the fighting, completing the missions, and they were shipped back home.” Amelia cleared her throat as she shoved down the memory of sitting in front of a webcam talking to her brother as he wondered about the support system for his friends. They became his family and their stresses became his stresses and that became her stresses. Her brother was worried about becoming a burden. 

“They were afraid of the time when they’d have to come back. Everyone was wondering how they would support their families or themselves. And if they couldn’t come back, then—”

With a shivering breath, she continued, “so I found myself reading about military history and their support systems. My dissertation was about it. I just wanted to make sure that he would be okay, and his friends will be taken care of. So, I ended up at the rehab clinic. Which led me to Sam and that led us to the VA Office and that led me here,” Amelia stared at Steve, “to you.” 

“Leading us to here,” Steve whispered, and Amelia followed Steve’s eyes to the building in front of them. 

“To an ice cream place?”

“To the _best_ ice cream place."

“They had dessert at the restaurant Mr. Barnes.”

“But now your phone wasn’t bothering you.” Steve gave her a corner smile and opened the door for her. She walked into a brightly lit creamery. Only a few tables were lined to one side and the other side was filled with counters of different flavours. Amelia noticed the framed pictures of different councillors lined up along the walls with the owner. There was a picture of Steve. Both of them smiling widely with their ice creams firm in their hands. 

“Wait, that’s—” she got interrupted by the owner. 

“Captain—” Steve gave him a look with a tight smile and cut through his words.

“Evening, sir! We’re going to need the special flavour.”

“Special ice cream?” Amelia asked.

“It’s an in-house secret for specific situations. He only makes a small batch, but you need to say the right things for it.”

“You’re full of surprises, Mr. Barnes.” Steve gave her a corner smile and Amelia felt her breath sigh. Her heart skipped a beat and the smile froze in her mind. It was casual. It wasn’t significant. It was a routine response but that smile lingers and her knees slightly went weak.

Amelia doesn’t do this. She’s never done this. Steve was still a stranger; it’s only been a few hours. Everything has always been carefully planned and listed in her planner and he couldn’t be a part of it because he wouldn’t be able to fit in it. She tracks her water intake, keeps mental notes of her outfits, and manages her time a week in advance. The planner still had things noted down—even for today. She had turned through different ideas for the night and she had settled on plan for herself. Meeting someone new and gallivanting around the city never had any space in her planner. Just the thought—a stranger and her somewhere deep in the city—scared her. The planning, on the other hand, was a comfort.

She also doesn’t share intimate details about her to someone’s just met. The details were for her; it’s her world. Sam was the only one who really knew everything and that was enough people. But, it had still taken her months before she shared information about her brother with him during his time in rehab. It took her even longer to tell him about the counselling he infrequently visited after her brother’s death. They had got there after building upon on each other for days, weeks, and years. They built on it with awkward silences while each puzzle piece would slowly—sometimes stubbornly—fall into place. Sam was a fluke, he had stayed but Amelia had carefully crafted the conversations in her mind to make sure any significant detail was left out.

Tonight, just didn’t make sense. Her mind had been spinning and the words kept tumbling out. She had already overused her quota on personal stories for the entire month. He asked the questions and she spilled all the secrets she had pent up somewhere in the back of her mind. She put the trust in Steve a lot quicker—too quickly—and followed him. Her mind didn’t throw red flags. He kept his distance. He kept his hands in his pockets. His smile was always pointed to the ground as if it was too much for him to even share that.

But, they had fused together. Their steps matched. Their jokes landed. She wanted to answer all his questions and give him details. Her heart felt lighter. The world had disappeared around them in between their stories. She didn’t ache for her home. The day didn’t loom over her anymore and she wished, surprising herself, that the night wouldn’t end.

\---

“Can I ask you something more?” Steve spoke up. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to."

They had found themselves walking away from the ice cream parlour with full scoops in bowls and more stories on their minds. The night was still young. They still had too much time and they still had too much to talk about. The Lincoln Memorial overlooked the city enough to give them space from the crowds and the silence to each other’s company.

“Now, I want to answer. Let’s hear it,” she replied. 

“How was he like?” Amelia paused with her scoop. Her back straightened and before Steve could retract his question, she gave him a small smile.

“He was—he was an absolute light. We were competitive, not in a bad way. But, we pushed each other. We always felt the other’s potential was much more.” They fought for the best grades and raced each other on track. He would always win but she would never give him the chance to celebrate. She helped him with his love issues and he kept all the boys away from her. They shared wine nights—she had managed to convince him to like wine. They decorated their Christmas tree together even when he was stationed somewhere else. He would direct her ornaments to the spots he liked. His handwriting had improved during his time in the forces and he had claimed that he always had better handwriting.

"He was full of facts, little random history facts that he wanted everyone to know.” There were letters in her closet where he would end it with a bit of history he had remembered or learned. He would send her a topic to look into her for him because he craved the knowledge.

“He would have been a history teacher if he couldn’t go through with the military life. It was his plan B. I wished he kept that as his first choice. He would have been a good teacher too. He lit up the entire room every time. The kids would have loved him.” Amelia sniffled and looked away. She shouldn’t say more. She usually wouldn’t say more. It would make it real if she said it out loud.

“But, you know, I’m scared.”

“About what?” Steve whispered. 

“About forgetting his voice.” She faced him, tears glistening in her eyes. “I could always hear his voice in his letters. This morning—it had to happen this morning—I found a letter I had folded up in my planner and I read it. Bad idea, I know. And,” Amelia sniffed, “and I couldn’t hear him.” Steve his body move closer and she shivered in between her tears. Their shoulders rested against each other and they leaned into each other. He wanted to wrap an arm around her shoulders but kept his grip on his ice cream. 

“But, anyways,” she let out a sigh, “that’s not what you asked.”

“I lost my mom when I was quite young. There wasn’t a lot of family around us most of the time. It was just the two of us for as long as I could remember. I could swear I would forget her voice and her smile would disappear from my mind. So, I tried to hold to whatever fragments I could remember. Then, I joined the war,” Steve cleared his throat, “the military, I mean.” Words had begun to fall out of his mouth and he didn’t have the strength or the wish to stop himself. He had never spoken enough about his mom or how her death had propelled him to do something significant with his life. He had nothing to lose at that point, he had no one to come home to. It only made more sense to join the army when the war hit. It wasn’t because of the war movies or the horrible posters, but because there was nothing better to do.

“I was convinced I would forget her voice against the noise of the training, violence, and horrors. I couldn’t agree if she used to wear her hair down or in bun. I had pictures to prove it, but she wouldn’t come up in my mind. I thought I had lost her.” Before the experiment, Steve had hoped that his mother was looking over him. He didn’t believe in praying. It didn’t do his mother any good and she was already doing the most selfless work. But, he was hoping in the moment, she would help him decide to continue with the experiment or not. Her voice didn’t come then.

“But, in the quiet of it all, she was there. She was always there. The moment I needed her the most, she had shown up and I didn’t even have to look for her. I recognized her voice right away. It was the same. It was warm, pleasant, and soft.” Steve was in the ship. Sleep wasn’t swift. He had stayed awake while the ship lay dying in the cold, icy waters. His breath kept colouring the cold around him and his mind tried to work through his survival instincts. He had thought about Peggy in that moment. He should have told her. He thought about Howard in that time. There had to be a way Howard could find him. He tried to march around the ship, hoping to find something that could help him and help his friend. As the water had begun to breach the ship, Steve’s feet had lost all senses. His legs barely moved as he tried to search the ship. The suit had begun to cling onto him. His fingers had gone numb. His eyes refused to open as his eyelashes continued to freeze. When he fell on the water-soaked floor among the freezing snowflakes, he knew his knees broke but he couldn’t feel them. The cold had travelled throughout his body, taking all his pieces with it. He pulled himself under his shield and hoped that night. He hoped for something better. He hoped to be saved.

Then, he heard her voice. It was silent. It was warm. It was like sunshine against his frozen body. He had rested his eyes, then. She woke him up 70 years later.

“His voice…” Amelia reminisced with Steve, “it was deep. It was comforting. And he laughed with his entire body.” She didn’t want to forget this part. She wanted to remember all his pranks and their arguments. She wanted to remember how he used to say he was their parents’ favourite. She wanted to remember the night he bleached his hair and ran to her room when it started to burn. Amelia wanted to make sure he and his memories were preserved.

“I don’t think you’ll ever forget his voice.”

“Do you still hear her?”

Steve thought for a beat, “no.”

It was honest. He hadn’t heard her as often he would have wanted. She didn’t travel back to his mind as much. It was always only when he needed her the most. To him, he always thinks he always needs her support but it’s always at the crucial moments. It was the moments she decided.

“But, she’s in the back of my mind. I think she waits for the moment I really need her.” “What if you always need her?”

Amelia wanted to hug her brother. She wanted to hold him and make him promise never to leave again. She wanted to make sure he would stay home and deny all mission calls. She needed him to tell her that everything is okay. Her heart was full of apologizes for him. Somewhere in her mind, she had convinced her if she was a better, forgiving, and apologetic sister he would still be here. She continued to wish and hope that he would walk back into her life, but every morning, on the particular day, it was always the same.

“Thing is, we do always need them, and I think that’s why they always disappear in those times because we need to be better. His voice may not come to right away but it’s there.”

“You promise?” Amelia stared into his blue, green ocean eyes like they held all her secrets. They were the water to her dying thirst.

“I promise.”

Their eyes lingered on each other. The distance between them had gotten smaller throughout the night and they were magnetized by each other’s company. His eyes never wavered from her and she bounced her eyes from the dark reflection of his jawline and his soft eyes. Their shared silence had engulfed them in an embrace and the streetlights danced around each other. In that moment the rustling of the leave stopped. The hum of the traffic had subdued. Sad memories and the overwhelming worry bounced between the two of them. Each had their own memory playing in their heads. Steve remembered his home with the crisp newspaper and the fresh coffee with the sun barely peeking inside. Amelia watched the dinner table lined with their family dinner, loud debates, and laughter. But, even in the spotlight of the moon, their gazes never broke away.

Amelia and Steve’s breaths swam together, mixing with each other. She could feel his sighs around her and he noticed the small strand sticking out of her hair bun. It bounced against her cheek and he fought every urge in his body to reach out and curl it behind her ear.

As the condensation from the ice cream bowl dripped around Steve’s hands, he cleared his throat and broke away the gaze. Amelia let out a breath, the one she had managed to hold in, and her eyes lingered on Steve as he straightened his back. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from him. His hands appeared rough. There were recovering bruises on his fists. He made sure to take up little space, as if he’s used to being smaller. His hair had gotten messy by his constant hair touches. Amelia ached for him to look back.

Time had passed easily with him. She had plans for herself tonight and he threw everything into disarray.

It was always the same routine on the anniversary. She’d lay in cold blanket as her eyes refused to rest into sleep. Her attention would remain on a singular spot on the roof as she would wait for the sun to come out. Once, she tried to read when she couldn’t sleep, and she found herself reading the same paragraph over and over. Another time, she tried to journal the night sleep wouldn’t come and she found herself crying the entire day. Nothing would work other than lying on her back, surrounded by pillows, window ajar, and her attention on the ceiling.

She would then fill the rest of the day with tasks—big meetings, significant deadlines, and tedious tasks. She collected a week’s worth of chores for the day to fill up the night and she’d still find it was never enough. Once she found herself sitting in a café, but the stillness made her mind go crazy. Then, she tried to fill her night with a movie. So, she had settled to putting on cooking the longest and hardest recipe, listening to the old voicemail, and trying to put herself to bed.

And then, Steve walked in with his shy smile and mysterious eyes. He said very little and she understood very little about him. He was filled with his own secrets and scars. On old soul surrounded him as he listened to her every word. He made it seem like his attention was consumed by her. He apologized to everyone who bumped into him. He made sure he was walking closest to the road. He opened the doors for her when they walked in. He had kept a very small touch on the curve of her back when he directed her somewhere. He had pulled out the chair for her. Steve was also dressed well.

The simple white shirt brought out his eyes and Amelia noticed the harsh streets lights highlighting his sharp jawline outlining his face. 

Sometimes her eyes would notice his sleeves wrap tighter around his muscles and she’d have to force herself to look away. 

Steve wrecked her plans.

Every plan for the night had been pushed and Amelia didn’t mind.

“Can I ask something else?”

Letting out a laugh, Amelia nodded.

“Why do you do the thing with your phone? You’re not going to respond to them and you’re expecting them. Why not just let it sleep?”

Amelia took in a deep breath and stared at the remaining ice cream. She was expecting the question. The habit is crazy. It didn’t even make sense to her.

The memories are always so vivid in her mind. She’d see the moment play out in her head every morning of this day. She’d see herself on the streets laughing, giggling, and enjoying the night crowds. She was so busy living her life, letting loose and enjoying the moments around her. She couldn’t be bothered with anything else. She had sworn off her work and the stress and there was a sway in her step and a light-headedness building up. She missed her bed and missed the warmth of her blanket, but she enjoyed the noise. She wanted to dance. She was balancing herself against Sam who was balancing himself against her. They laughed at the street lights and the signals. They promised each other things they don’t even remember anymore. 

They were living the night. They were thriving.

Amelia remembered marching into her home. There was a looseness in the air. She had promises on her mind and goals swimming around her. She wouldn’t remember them later, but she was prepared to do something great. Her breath smelled, and she was starving. After slipping off her coat, she fumbled in her phone. She remembered a joke and had to text it to Sam.

That’s when she saw them.

“I did a bad thing three years ago.” Amelia tried to bury the lump in her throat. Her phone lit up in her face. It was loud and accusing. The messages appeared on her screen, each one bouncing after the other. Voicemail notifications popped up. The phone weighed in her hand and she was getting crushed under it.

“I was too busy for my phone.” Steve watched her squeeze her hands together. “My parents had gotten the news about my brother. They tried to call me, but I already had such an awful day that Sam and I went drinking. I turned my phone on silent and stuffed it in the tiniest pocket in my purse. I couldn’t even feel the vibrations of my phone. There were—” Amelia’s chest was filled with so much air, she couldn’t find her breath. The day was still vivid in her mind. The floor had disappeared from her under feet. Her knees had given away. Her mind spun, and her heart had landed in her hands. Her stomach churned, and she knew she threw up, but she could never understand how she managed to find her sink. Her mouth was tasteless, and her eyes burned. The apartment had felt so silent, small, and cold that night. Her fingers had gone numb and her ears rang. Shivers ran through her body and the outside had muted along with her sobs. The world didn’t matter anymore.

She had cut her knee when she fell on her floor that night and the pain never ran through her body. Her room stayed dark, clouding over all the pictures she had meticulously placed, and her life had stopped.

_Mia_ , her mother had said.

“There were so many voicemails.” Each one always echoed in her mind. “So many messages. I don’t even remember which one I listened to first. It had happened so fast. But, I could see my mom. Her voice was so silent and so small by the last one that she could barely say my name. And then, my dad left one more message hoping I was okay, and saying they missed me.” Amelia wiped her cheek, realizing tears had begun rolling down. “I wasn’t there when they needed me. I just—I can’t let that happen again.” 

Steve watched as her shoulders shivered and listened as her sniffling became louder and persistent. A silence settled around them as they weighed their guilt

“Sorry. This is probably not how you wanted to spend your night.”

Steve handed her a handkerchief. Their fingers brushed against each other as she took it from his hands. Her eyes bounced between the handerchief and him.

“That’s okay, luckily I don’t have any other plans.” 

Letting out a little laugh, “so, you’re settling in to spend it with someone who is an emotional wreak?”

“I’d rather have that over the night that would have been waiting for me.” There was pain in his voice. There was unhappiness and Amelia tried to read him through his eyes. He never seemed to offer too much information as if he was used to staying in his mind.

“What were your plans?” Steve spoke through the silence.

“Oh, I had it all planned it out, trust me.” She let a chuckle. “I was going to make the hardest recipe I had found. I’d mess it up really badly and regret my decision to ever step foot in my kitchen and then make tea. I would then order take out and make some popcorn after popping in a movie that I wasn’t going to pay attention to.”

“That almost sounds much better.”

“But, it didn’t have ice cream. So, this one wins.”

“This might be the first night I have enjoyed since I moved to Washington.” They glanced at each other and they couldn’t pull away. There were things swimming through their minds, ideas and sentences they wanted to say. It was new them, this feeling. If they could even call it a feeling but, there was no effort with the two of them—as if they had been waiting for each other. Their words fit with each other and arms ached when they sat far apart.

They had become the last two people in the night as the ignored the sounds and the noises around them. It wasn’t a date. Amelia knew that, and Steve didn’t understand the first thing about them. But, they had begun to like the comfort they were beginning to feel from each other’s company.

“Where did you move from?” Amelia didn’t look away.

“New York.” They were whispering in a large, empty park.

“You moved from New York? The greatest city in the world?”

He let out a small laugh. “So, they tell me.”

Then, it hit her. “That alien fight probably didn’t help very much.” _She knows. She knows._ Steve whispered to himself. She keeps referencing the correct details. Maybe, she’s playing with him and waiting for when he’d reveal his lie. His mind tried to make sense of her reactions and tried to keep himself as ambiguous as possible.

“Yes, that didn’t help.” He breathed out.

“I suppose you have Tony Stark to help you through that.” Steve prepared himself again.

“You know about Tony Stark?” The spark had dwindled and the sounds around them came back and they were back to being barely strangers.

“Everyone knows about Tony Stark.” Her voice was vicious and firm. “Especially about his war profiteering days.” There were stacks of stories she had read during the time her brother was in the military. He looked up to him and Amelia had a hard time showing him the other side. Her brother had willing signed up to be the military personnel for Tony Stark. 

“Right, but not—” Steve caught himself defending Tony when she interrupted.

“I know he has improved but he’s also put so many people’s lives on the line to get where he did.” Her breath had gotten faster with her heart beat screaming against her chest, “he’s making bigger hospitals and better schools. He’s probably the biggest and only name in clean energy. But that doesn’t wipe away what he and his father did.”

“His father—Howard? What did Howard do?”

“If Tony is war profiteer, it started from his father and his time involved with the war.” Steve squinted his eyes at her. He had read the files. He knew about Howards research after his difference. Most of the time, he had been relentlessly searching for him and working on making a stronger SHIELD. He even had Tony to back up all the information he read. Her breath was laboured and angry. She had forgotten about the ice cream on her scoop when she set it down and smoothed her hair. Her anger was getting the best of her and she wasn’t prepared for a fight. Not today and not with a stranger.

“Howard was just trying to help the war, wasn’t he?” Howard was his friend. Steve’s heard more stories about him when he was older, but he still considered him a friend. Before he had managed to save Bucky, he had Howards support and his encouragements. He had helped him understand his own strength by giving him the time and the opportunity to hone his skills when he wasn’t being forced to perform.

Amelia had heard this conversation before. Her brother was deep into his appreciation of SHIELD that he refused to see something different. He looked up to a lot of people in the organization and prepared himself to rise in those ranks. But, he never to see Tony Stark become Iron Man but he saw Tony Stark helping his team, sipping his whiskey, and that had been enough for him.

Amelia sighed. She shouldn’t continue. “He was making weapons for the war and just never stopped after it ended. He helped with the Super Soldier project and continued with it.” Howard wouldn’t. Peggy wouldn’t have let him.

“Captain America isn’t a weapon.” Steve breathed.

Amelia stared at him. “A man with super strength and speed and he wasn’t a weapon? You’re a modern-day veteran who willingly left the military, you really think they spent that much money and research to create a stage monkey?” He was a stage monkey—there was no argument there. The clothes were ridiculous. The helmet squeezed his head. He hated the spotlight. Everyone’s eyes were focused on him and he felt more uncomfortable than he did during a fight before the serum. But, he was doing the right thing by fighting the right fight.

“He was just fighting for the little guy to end the war.”

“He was selling war bonds. Even after he was declared missing, he managed to sell more! The government was so obsessed with having us mourn him that they forgot to record the other deaths that happened during that time. We lost track of so many people.” The words had begun ringing in his ears. SHIELD had sat him down to explain the years he missed. It was an inspiring meeting. They had told him they won because of his help. They told him the world celebrated him and the world tried to move on. He was their hope, he was told and it grew his heart. He had left behind a powerful legacy attached to his best friend and his team. When he asked about the details for SHIELD and his friends and the history that played out after him they gave him newspapers and personnel files. They had refused to show him his file. You helped us win the war, Captain was all they said. It wasn’t easy, they continued. The following wars left to him to discover. In all the time he was given, Steve had begun creating a timeline of events he missed. The fights weren’t making sense. The wars didn’t seem fair. The image of Captain America slipped through time to time and Steve had too many questions and SHIELD didn’t have enough answers. 

“He just…” Steve took a breath. “He wanted to fight the bullies.” His words echoed in his mind. His image had gotten so mixed with SHIELD and its people that he had forgotten what he was wanted. He had become an instrument of theirs that he had no voice left. He only wanted to help. 

“Captain America put on performances, expensive performances that the little guy he loved so much couldn’t even afford to watch. He was war propaganda and used to sell the war and he continued to sell different wars afterwards.” He stared at her.

“Different wars?”

“You don’t remember the banners the government tried to fly during the Vietnam War? During the missile crisis, they said Captain America would want you to do the right thing. And then during the Space Race, he was pulling students to work for the government.” Steve’s mouth went dry. The documentary and promotional videos ran through his mind. They had packed his schedule so much that he didn’t have time to question their motives. They gave him lines and dialogue to say at one camera and move on to the next. It’s for the people, to motivate them, to comfort them he was told. Whatever pieces of his file Steve could find said everything was moved to the vault. And yet, his picture was still everywhere.

Amelia bit her tongue. She had begun to go too far. Sam had told her to keep her anger and disappoint under wraps. People are constantly feeling an array of emotions and her facts tend to rip them apart. Her brother had asked her to see a different side and pull the human of Captain America aside. But, she heard her grandmother’s stories and her father’s obsession with him. She listened to her brother convince himself by telling him about the story of Captain America. She read about him in the papers and in her textbooks. She never carried the wish to visit his museum—things sponsored by his makers. Yet, Amelia watched as Steve’s eyes had wandered to the ground and his back had bunched over. 

Sighing, Amelia shook her head. “I’m sure he’s a good guy. I’m sure he was during his war days.” _Don’t say anything more Amelia._ “But, there’s so much about him we don’t know. And, now he’s back and the government is free to parade him around as much as they like covering up whatever they want.” _Damnit, Amelia._

“Isn’t he just trying to protect everyone now?”

“I’m sure that’s what he thinks. And, maybe he is still is the same man he was 70 years ago. But, he’s been accused of stealing intelligence information, attacking civilian ships, and causing destruction in already war-torn countries.” Steve sighed. She was right. He’s already had the arguments with Nick before. He had seen Natasha pull SHIELD information from a pirate ship and he had revisited so many of the old missions to notice all the smaller details. The SHIELD files on his desk weren’t personnel files, they were the files of his missions. At least, they were the ones he could pull and convince Tony to find. For so long, he had followed orders just for the sake of filling his days and keeping him on his feet. The mission didn’t interest him. The following report was unemotional and statistical. He had blindly followed the information he was given and yet, lately he had begun questioning everything. It took him three years to notice his actions and he was still behind. 

Tony had told Steve that Fury is always hiding something, that SHIELD holds secrets and he barely believe him then. He thought he had all the secrets figured out and then, there was Project Insight. Steve gripped his ice cream bowl tighter as his heart beat louder in his chest. The anger he felt while he was on stage 70 years ago climbed its way up his chest ready to burst. He had no way to defend his image to Amelia. She was right. 

Everyone knew a story about Captain America, stories that came through SHIELD—not him. The reason why Steve found himself shuffling through old newspapers and old files is because even he didn’t know himself. Steve had designed his imagine to be a symbol of hope and a better future. Amelia sat next to him clearing her breath and Steve considered, again, to tell her the truth. Somehow, his persona had become more important than himself. Maybe, it’s all he gets now.

“Amelia, I—”

“Wait, don’t react but I think someone’s over there,” Amelia glanced behind Steve when a man turned on his flashlight and waved it towards them. Steve’s body dropped in a sigh. “And, he has a flashlight!” The streetlight shone against the man’s badge and Amelia gasped.

“Are we—” Amelia stared at Steve, “Mr. Barnes, are we not supposed to here?” 

“I’m usually here in the mornings, I assumed—” Amelia smacked his arm. 

“We’re trespassing! Oh my god, it’s a guard!” Steve stared at the figure walking closer towards them. The flashlight shone in his face and before getting recognized, Steve grabbed Amelia’s hand and bolted in the other direction. He was not ready to let Amelia find out about him like this.

“Do you trust me?”

“Are you going to fight him because that wouldn’t—”

“Amelia! Do you want to get caught?”

“I don’t want you to fight him, he’s just doing his job.”

“Do you trust me?” Steve repeated.

“I—uh…” the figure had begun to get closer. “Yes.”

Steve had her hand grasped in his grip and she wrapped her other hand around his lower arm as he pulled her up and led her into a run. They could hear the guard call after them and trying to keep up. The light from the flashlight got further and further the faster Steve made her run.

Everything became a blur as their breaths picked up. His grip on her hand got tighter as they moved further away from the security guard. She could hear the rocks crunch under her feet as she tried to look back at the memorial. It had become so small so quickly becoming a part of the landscape. Amelia noticed how Steve barely slowed down to catch his breath and he continued to weave through the remaining crowds, making sure to put enough distance between them and the memorial grounds. Her grip became tighter around his arm and he turned in an alleyway and leaned her again the brick wall. 

With their hands clasped together, they both looked at each other smiling between their gasps. Steve had barely broken into a sweat and she felt like her throat was burning with her shallow breaths. Her lungs ached, and her breath was beating out of her chest. Her laughs came out as chokes as Steve kept smiling at her. His other hand was against the wall beside her head and her world had suddenly become completely him. His blue eyes glistened as he stared at her. The lights from the streets lit up the side of his face and she could trace his jawline. His hair had become tousled in the run with the strands blowing with the wind. With their eyes locked and the world around them on mute, Amelia found herself unwilling to look away. Their breaths entangled as they both noticed themselves considering the next move. 

They both followed each other’s gaze to their hands curled together.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” Steve stammered as they uncurled their hands away. Her hand had been warm against his shivering fingers. 

“Wait.” Amelia gasped, “are we…criminals now?” Steve tried to stifle a laugh as he widened his eyes at her. 

“I think we should be fine.”

Amelia gasped as her mind sifted through the events, “we forgot our ice creams!”

“Again, Amelia, it should be fine. We can get more.” 

“No, no! We have no idea what they can do now. Your SHIELD could have anything up their sleeves.” Steve blinked.

“I don’t think SHIELD has much time for two random ice cream bowls. Unless you know something that you’re not telling me.”

“I promise I’m no super speeder.”

“I could tell.”

“Low blow, Mr. Barnes. I hadn’t warmed up.”

And, there was that smile again. The smile that weakened her knees. It swam through her pausing her breath hand taking away her world. Her gazed followed him as he looked around the streets. She lingered on him and memorized more details as the light shone on him. The smile was causal, and it was playful. The smile made her ready to give up whatever was left of the night for him.

Her heart was beating against her chest and there was a buzz in her purse. Blinking away the haze clouding her eyes, she felt for her phone and let out a sigh.

Everything had gone too far. It wasn’t like her. She was telling him too much, revealing too much about her to him. There were too many stories between them and it’s only been hours since he strutted into her world. His eyes sparkled at her and his attention was warm. But, it was too much. There was a time she was willing to share details about her brother and about her world. She wouldn’t have minded being stuck answering questions. Details would have slowly spilled out and she wouldn’t have regretted it. But, she had grown up and her memories and stories had become even more significant to her. She wasn’t willing to share them to anyone, to a stranger. Her habit of sharing had stopped long before she met Sam and she had doubled down on that habit even more after her brother’s death.

After all, that was all she had left.

And, she had been throwing those stories around all night.

It wasn’t like her. Steve brought too much out of her. The night had gone too far.

She had opened up her heart before. She opened her feelings and her world to someone else and crashed around her so loudly that it was still echoing in her ears. He had also asked her questions. He also saw her phone. It was easier to tell him about her brother at that time. She told him how they had a fight a few days before the news came in. She begged her brother to come back. Washington was lonely without him and the rising theories of violence made her afraid for him. The stories about the weapons scared her. Her brother hadn’t listened, and they promised to talk to each other in a few days. He had important things to finish he told her. He reassured her that he wasn’t close to danger zones. He was basically a security guard the next few days. Then, he was in a car in a world far away and guarding precious cargo of a man who survived the attack and flew out of a cave to change the world. Yet, her brother didn’t even have a chance.

When she had shared that story, her heart had sighed. It was a relief to talk to someone she trusted. It was load off her shoulders when she acknowledged the fight she didn’t even share with her parents. And yet, he used it against her.

Cold had reached back into her heart and frozen whatever was left and she promised herself that her stories were only for her. So, she locked them away in the recess of her mind and learned to carry out. She had shared her heart with someone who should have been a confidant and he ripped apart. Now, she was sitting with a stranger.

Steve came in with his questions, his soft eyes, and his mesmerizing smile. She hadn't caught herself spilling her secrets. Somehow, throughout the night with the way he listened and glanced at her, she found a warmth coming from him. It had been so cold for so long. People gave her shivers. Reaching into her core gave her shivers. But, there was a calmness and beauty around him and Amelia found herself slipping. 

“I should get back.” It was a whisper. She didn’t want him to hear it. She didn’t want her mind to understand it. It felt like was tearing herself away from him. It’s just a night, she had to keep reminding herself. He’s a stranger.

“Right. It’s late.” Steve checked his watch. Amelia heard herself wishing for the time to have stopped just for them. They had straightened their backs and Amelia prepared for a slow walk back.

“Can I walk you home?” Her heart sighed.

“Sure.”

\---

A chill had set through the streets. The chaos of the night had disappeared as the streetlights illuminated empty sidewalks. Steve and Amelia shared a slow and measured walk as the city feel asleep around them. There was a time Steve paced the streets to put him to sleep and New York had been the worst. The sounds banged against his head and his heart was ready to jump out of his chest. His breathing had never calmed down and his nightmares were worse. Nothing around him put his mind to ease—ever. Even the silence in the boxing club was deafening. Nightmares had taken over his mind—more often than now—and he would up to a burning world or a cold and desolate city. He would dowse himself in water and run against the picture playing in his mind. Shivers would run down his spine, and his lungs would gasp for air and peace. His legs would feel heavy and refuse to continue. The nightmares would travel up his throat as a scream and he would beg the world to give him solace and warmth. There was no calm and there was no peace. They had told him they won but every night his mind reminded him that he didn’t.

The cold never disappeared.

The ice still echoed in his mind.

It had seemed to follow him everywhere even in the frigid storms when everyone was wrapped in their blankets and he was walking the streets. He couldn’t feel the difference and he couldn’t enjoy the change. Maybe with running, the rush of air, and the fight for survival would be enough for him to feel something. But, it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen in New York and it didn’t happen in the races with Sam. He still shivered, and the ice refused to leave him behind.

There were fleeting moments of happiness around him with the team, with his books, with his search, and with Sam. Most of his happiness had been confined to his lonesome but he couldn’t say he enjoyed his own company anymore. His would slip back into the world that was and see his past. He would see his mother and the pictures that hung in his home. He had promised her he would come back from the war. He had promised himself to create a better world for himself when he would come back. His goal wasn’t just to fight the war—it was a misconception. He wanted to thrive. He wanted to find love and compete with his friends. He wanted to put the atrocities behind him. He wanted to live and share that life.

There was a time he wanted to be saved in the ice but not anymore. Living had become too hard for him and it felt too late to live a life. He was out of time and out of place.

But, Amelia walked beside him. Their distance had grown, and her silence echoed in his ears. Her pace was slow, and her eyes were trained to the ground. The city shivered in cold, but he had held Amelia’s hand. He had held her gaze and somehow, there was warmth. The world hadn’t felt crazy in those hours. There was calm and there was happiness. Steve wasn’t tolerating their time but enjoying it. Her voice soothed the building images in his mind. Her voice brought him back to the street when he would find himself slipping back into the past.

She wasn’t supposed to hold that power—not so quickly. He wasn’t supposed to attach himself to anyone. Ever. SHIELD had given him a path and he had signed his life away to a lonely path. It was his consequence to watch others live without him. But, Steve wished for a longer night. He prayed for a timeless walk. He wanted more time to notice the details around her face. Throughout the night, he noticed how tired her eyes were from the sleepless night she must have had. He had noticed how he curled a strand behind her ears before she shared a personal truth. Her eyes closed when she laughed. She hid her smile behind her hand. He noticed how he scraped small bits from her ice cream to enjoy it more. She had been expressive the entire night—not so much that she wore her heart on her sleeve but enough that he didn’t want to miss a reaction.

Amelia illuminated the night for him. She radiated the sun. Her laugh warmed his cold.

For two years, Steve craved for silence against the war in his mind and somehow, she entered his world and he could only see her.

It couldn’t be real; Steve kept reminding himself. This isn’t a real moment. It was a fleeting moment. He didn’t even give her his real name. It was a stolen moment. Yet, Steve wanted to hold on it for as long as he could. If this was all he could have, he would take it and keep it for ever. It would be his opportunity at a chance of a potential life. And, it was beautiful.

There were so many things he wanted to say to her. Steve wanted to assure her that the pain she felt will go away, that she was a good person, and she shouldn’t carry the guilt. He wanted to tell her that she deserved to live her life that wasn’t tired down with the sounds of the missed notifications. She shouldn’t expect to be available for every bad news. But, they carried on in silence. It wasn’t deafening. It was a happy silence. It was the silence of a good night and neither of them wanted to say the wrong thing.

Amelia wanted to tell him she wanted the night to continue. She wanted to keep exploring with him. The plans waiting for her in her home weren’t enough. She had managed to forget the night in his company and she didn’t want to remember it in pain anymore. But, she had stepped too far from her own boundaries and she’d rather keep the night as perfect as it was rather than stretch it too far. Instead, Amelia gathered up the bit of courage she could find and closed the distance between them.

Their arms brushed against each other and Steve straightened his back.

Amelia took the longer route to her place. She curved them through longer streets and never-ending blocks. She skipped the shortcuts and walked slower to the crossing lights. She made them wait longer at the crossroads and silently hoped for another question from him. He hoped for a question from her. She considered the next thing to say to him and he weighed the idea of telling her his real name. Her disdain for Captain America shocked him but her refusal to acknowledge him comforted him.

As her apartment came closer her steps got slower. The building loomed over their night and her heart dropped. This wasn’t the end she was hoping, and she cursed at her own rules. She had to break them one time. She had to get connected one day. She had to open up with someone. But, she kept her heart quiet and pulled away from the warmth Steve offered and turned towards.

“This is me.” Steve felt the air rush out of his lungs and the cold had begun to inch back in.

“Right, of course.” Steve nodded.

“Thank you—” for an unforgettable night, “for dinner and the ice cream.”

“Of course. Thank you for agreeing to spend your night with me.” Amelia’s heart sighed.

“You made it easier.” Steve’s heart sighed. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“I couldn’t let you go alone.” They scanned the streets. It was quiet and lonely. But, Steve knew never to let a woman walk alone.

“Uh…” This was happening too quick. The night had been so magical that ending it seemed disrespectful. But, a straggler walked by them and they looked away from each other. There were no more words between them. There was no delaying the inevitable but neither of wanted to say it.

“So, I should—” Amelia began.

“I suppose—” Steve started with her. Clearing their throat, Amelia curled her hands into fists and calmed her heart. This was it.

“I suppose this is good night.”

“It appears to be.” Their eyes lingered again and with a blink she looked at the gates and he looked down.

“Have a good run tomorrow.” Amelia pulled herself away from him and turned towards the gate.

Steve found his feet moving back and turning himself away from the building. His heart pounded against his chest as the words replayed in his mind. He didn’t want to let her go. It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to see her leave. He was allowed another chance at life and he had been pulling himself away from everything around him. He wouldn’t let himself enjoy the company at SHEILD. He barely let himself enjoy Sam’s company after their runs.

The cold had begun creeping through his spine again and body had started to shiver, again. The shivers were the same that night 70 years ago. It was lonely. It was helpless. He was tired. He was unhappy and disappointed. That day, his city and every single person was more important to him that night. His reason to bury himself in the cold was so the world could continue to thrive.

And, it had given him nothing. He woke up to an even more broken world and even more secrets. There was a constant betrayal in the air and he was still being used. It was never about him but about his persona and he was getting tired. He missed his warmth. He missed his happiness. Everyone got to live a life. The world wasn’t giving him anything, but he deserved more.

Steve took a deep breath and stopped before crossing the street. It was too late to hope that she would still be there. Turning the corner, Steve sighed and closed his eyes before he reached the gates again.

Looking through the gates, Amelia was sifting through her purse. Her hands were shuffling through the items and her jacket was on the steps. In between her groans, Amelia unzipped another pocket.

As she pulled out a keychain, Steve called out, “Amelia.”

A gasp escaped her lips as she stared at him.

“Mr. Barnes.”

Leaves rustled between them as she approached him. Steve’s shivers disappeared with her smile. He ran his fingers through his hair and sucked in a deep breath.

“This might sound crazy but when I said this has been one of the best nights I’ve had since I moved to Washington, I meant it. I was wondering—hoping—would you like to grab coffee tomorrow?”

Amelia’s heart pounded. He wasn’t supposed to come back, especially not after she had babbled about her past so much. His eyes watched her shift in her spot as she considered his words. She wasn’t prepared for something more.

“There’s a cafe across the VA Office. Tomorrow at 12?” The words fell out of her mouth before she could consider them. They hung in the air as she watched Steve’s face turn into a smile.

“I’ll see you there.”

\---

There was bounce in Steve’s steps as he climbed up the stairs to his room. He hadn’t looked forward to the next day as much he did now. He was prepared to sleep the night away and hope tomorrow came faster.

Music travelled out of Steve’s door and stopped him mid step. He hadn’t been in his apartment the entire day and he was certain his vinyls were properly stacked away in place. He turned them on during dinner to drone out the numbing silence. Steve stared at his door as the sound got slightly louder. The handle was firm and in place. There were no marks on the door. Steve scanned the hallway before he rushed down the steps and outside the building. The first thing he had done after moving in was scan every inch of the building. A fire escape travelled down from each window of the building. He hadn’t used it before and there was no guarantee it was still function. The stairs wouldn’t come on all the way down and Steve gave him some distance and high jumped to the lowest step.

Pulling himself up, Steve kept his steps quiet and travelled his way up to his window. The music had stopped. In a few seconds, it started playing again. Holding his breath, Steve pulled up the window to his kitchen. The music stopped again, and he fit himself through. The music played again.

He made sure to keep his back to the walk as his eyes scanned around him. The kitchen was clear. There would be no sign of a disturbance if it weren’t for the music. Grabbing his shield, Steve inched his way closer to the sound. Steve tightened his grip around his shield and turned the corner to come face to face with Nick Fury.

“I don’t remember giving you a key.”

Nick grunted as straightened on the seat, “you really think I’d need one? My wife kicked me out.” Steve turned on the light and the bruises and injuries around Nick’s face lit up. In all the time Steve had known him, there was never a time someone could raise their hand against Nick.

“What—” Steve started when Nick stared calmly back, raised his hand, and turned off the light again. He typed quickly on his phone and flashed it at Steve.

_Ears everywhere._

“I’m sorry to have to do this, but I had no place else to crash.” His fingers typed again.

_SHIELD compromised._

A knot was caught in Steve’s throat as his mind rushed to catch up to all the information he was getting. "Who else knows about your wife?”

_You and me._

“Just…” Nick kept groaning in between his words as he stood up, “my friends.”

“Is that what we are?”

“That’s up to you.”

Shots rang through the room piercing Nick before Steve could process his words. Nick’s gasps rose against the bullets hitting Steve’s apartments walls. Nick fell against the floor and fought against his injuries in between his groans and coughs. Nick’s hand was going cold against Steve’s grip. He dragged Nick closer to the kitchen as the shots kept ringing around the room.

“Don’t trust anyone,” Nick gasped as he handed a drive to Steve. Steve’s neighbour crashed through his door, calling out his name. The agent spoke through her radio relaying the information. Nick lay silent on his floor when Steve noticed the shooter through his window.

“Tell him I’m in pursuit.” Steve said and ran through his window.

Before walking away from Steve had passed his number to Amelia and she had been working up the courage to even send him something. She had battled between different forms of hello. She could tell him to call her Mia. She could just not message him the same night they met. Sighing, Amelia typed out a small message, locked her phone, and turned it upside down on her dresser.

Steve ran through his window to the building across him. Shaking off the glass shards, Steve ran towards the masked shooter. His eyes were trained on him as he rushed through the doors in the building. Somewhere during the run, his phone had fallen out of his pocket. A message had popped up on the broken screen.

_See you tomorrow_ , Amelia had typed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Being mean to Tony Stark doesn't come easy to me.


End file.
